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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27232870">To Bethlehem It Slouched</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberly/pseuds/Amberly'>Amberly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Just Like Heaven [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gundam Wing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hospital, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Off-screen Minor Character Death, protective instinct</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:48:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27232870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberly/pseuds/Amberly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The hospital is a hospital. Duo hates it the way he hates all of them. It’s 12:04 in the afternoon and he all but runs to the trauma center. Stands blank faced as the nurse says words like “concussion” and “minor” and “lucky” and wonders how he’s supposed to be grateful for this. How he’s supposed to feel good that Wufei isn’t dead when he almost was. Lucky means close. Means a few inches either way and it would’ve been different words. Words like “sorry” and “condolences” and “tragic.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Just Like Heaven [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/405643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Bethlehem It Slouched</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let’s be clear: I am playing fast and loose with physics for dramatic effect and I’m not sorry about it. </p><p>The plot continues. Duo loses his shit. The mini summary. Reminder that I am not posting in order!</p><p>Thanks to those reading. It’s appreciated!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Duo gets the call at 11:43 in the morning.He is shocked. Shaking as he shoves his files and laptop into his messenger bag and swings it over his shoulder. He leaves without a word to anyone, ignores whatever Zechs shouts out at him, the flash over surprise and then anger that runs over the blond’s face. Duo is focused. Duo has one goal and he moves toward it full speed, rushes and prays at the same time. Hopes. Hope is a new thing, something he’s been learning at small bursts since he kissed Wufei and Wufei kissed him back. Since they kissed each other and Wufei decided he was somehow worth kissing again, repeatedly, and Duo took a chance and let himself fall headfirst into all of the love he’d held back.<br/>
<br/>
The hospital is a hospital. Duo hates it the way he hates all of them. It’s 12:04 in the afternoon and he all but runs to the trauma center. Stands blank faced as the nurse says words like “concussion” and “minor” and “lucky” and wonders how he’s supposed to be grateful for this. How he’s supposed to feel good that Wufei isn’t dead when he almost was. Lucky means close. Means a few inches either way and it would’ve been different words. Words like “sorry” and “condolences” and “tragic.” Everything is too bright, too loud all of a sudden and Duo sits down heavily. Stares blankly at the woman who is still talking, still feeding him platitudes. He can only take a few more minutes before he thanks her and asks to be left alone. Sits in the chair too still and too quiet and too pale for three hours.<br/>
<br/>
Wufei isn’t awake yet. He’s hooked up to monitors and drips, has heavy abrasions on one side of his face. There’s a bandage around his left bicep, another over his entire right forearm and Duo itches. Feels a surge of anxiety over the things he can’t see, the other wounds that might be there, hidden under blankets and hospital gown. He wants to peel them back. Look at the whole of Wufei and assess. Make a checklist of wounds to monitor. Duo picks up his chart and flips through it, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He didn’t think people with concussions were supposed to sleep, but apparently that’s for people who don’t have a dislocated hip.   </p><p>Duo puts the chart down. Runs his hand over his face. Takes a deep breath and then picks up a chair. Sets it at the head of Wufei’s bed and takes his hand. Holds it gently. It’s swollen, has a hematoma, and Duo feels a flicker of panic. A sudden roil of nausea in his stomach that he beats back. Swallows down the way he swallows down all the fear he’s felt since he got the call. Wufei is here, the steady beep of his pulse audible. Made real and tangible in exactly the way he needs it to be right now. He keeps seeing Wufei in pieces. Keeps replaying an explosion he didn’t see and--Duo tenses. Goes on alert and stands, putting his body between Wufei’s bed and the door, eyes flat. <br/>
<br/>
It’s Trowa. Trowa, who smiles at him as he comes down the hospital hall. Settles in the doorway and darts a worried look at the man in the bed. Shifts his green eyes back to Duo’s<br/>
<br/>
“I am here to keep you company,” he says, bright and cheerful. Duo’s violet eyes narrow. He glares. Braces himself and goes tense, ready for a fight. Trowa’s response is a snort. A roll of his eyes. “Ah, brat. Do not be like this. I am only--”<br/>
<br/>
“Going to leave,” Duo says. “You’re going to leave.”<br/>
<br/>
“What? No--”<br/>
<br/>
“Get. Out.” It’s through clenched teeth. Duo is armed. Duo is always armed, the same way Trowa is a weapon. The same way all five of them are weapons, wielded too long by heavy hands. Duo wields himself now. Is a light touch on a sharp knife, and he will not back down. Will not let another weapon into that room.  The reason is unconscious in bed. Has a concussion and a dislocated hip and more after an explosion during a routine training exercise wiped out almost an entire cohort. Blew Wufei fifty feet across the parking lot and practically all the way into a casket and--Duo doesn’t trust anyone. Bares his teeth and sets himself firmly between what he has and a threat.<br/>
<br/>
“Brat--” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>There’s a noise of disbelief. A wounded look, and then Trowa sighs. Runs his hand through his hair as he takes a step back. He nods and looks sideways at Duo. Offers him a jagged smile.<br/>
<br/>
“I will keep watch outside. Yes?”<br/>
<br/>
“Fine.” It takes all of Duo’s self-control. It’s not fine. He doesn’t want him there, doesn’t want anyone there. Struggles not to take Wufei off all of his drips and machines and secret him away to somewhere they can be safe. Some hole no one would think to look for, not even the other pilots, and Duo knows it’s not rational. Knows none of them are behind any of it. The explosions and the dead recruits and the steady bleed from his own department. A bleed he just can’t seem to stem. And maybe out of all of them, Trowa is the best to understand that. The one most likely to know without words that getting to Wufei will require getting through Duo. And Duo is a polished blade poised to strike.<br/>
<br/>
Trowa leaves. Walks away from Duo without putting his back to him and then turns to head down a hall. Duo watches until he’s gone. Slumps and covers his face with his hands, rubbing his temples. Later. Later he can apologize. When Wufei is at home and safe and when Duo knows who sits at the other side of the rage and betrayal he has building inside of him. Already he was planning. Already he was building a pyre, stoking flames to swallow his enemy. Duo would burn the whole Preventer’s organization down before he’d let them hurt another pilot. Another member of his family and--<br/>
<br/>
“Duo?” It’s soft. Achingly soft, and Duo reorients immediately. Heads to Wufei’s bedside with a smile and takes his hand once more. Gently. The eyes on him are hazy, full of pain. Confusion. He runs his fingers carefully through Wufei’s hair, minding the bandages. The man in the hospital bed before him is something of a miracle and Duo knows this. Knows that it could be so much worse, was so afraid it was worse when he got the call. But Wufei is not dead and Duo holds onto that as tight as he can, sparing the hand in his.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey there, hot stuff,” Duo teases. Tries to put a sparkle in his eyes. “You wanna tell me what you remember?” Wufei’s brow furrows. A question that usually would have a fast answer. That doesn’t, know. Duo can see Wufei thinking it over. Can see him trying to call the memories up and the moment when he remembers--<br/>
<br/>
“There was a bomb,” he says. Tries to sit up. Duo pushes him back. Holds him firm and won’t let him up and swallows. “Duo--where are my recruits?”<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t know,” he says, softly. Not quite a lie. “They called me for you, but--I don’t know anything about anyone else.”<br/>
<br/>
“Are they--?”<br/>
<br/>
“Some of them,” Duo tells him. Can’t lie. Won’t lie about this, not if he can help it. He strokes Wufei’s hair back from his face and watches it crumple in on itself. Watches Wufei’s jaw clench and his eyes close and tries to take himself out of the equation. Tries to take his hurt about Wufei’s hurt and bury it. Later, he tells himself. Later, he can call Trowa. Or Quatre. Anyone who isn’t Wufei and talk about how much he hates to see this man so still. All of that passion and intensity snuffed out in the wake of death.<br/>
<br/>
“Do we know how?”<br/>
<br/>
“No,” Duo tells him. “Not yet.” It’s said with finality. Like a nail into a coffin. Wufei’s eyes are open in an instant. Meet his and cling. He nods. Slowly. Carefully. Goes rapt to attention even with the drugs in his system and squeezes Duo’s hand with a wince. Wufei knows. They’ve talked about the case too many times for him to not know and he nods. Understands the unspoken promise in the room and settles back into his pillow. There will be mourning. There will be mourning and self recrimination and Duo knows his lover will hold every single dead recruit against himself. Can’t talk him out of it without being a hypocrite and instead knows he will offer him vengeance. Will stand beside him and let him carve each name out of whoever planted that bomb. Whoever set the wires. “Not yet.” </p>
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